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To Haley and Patrick, who accepted the challenge

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Five minutes before she died, grace Cahill changed

her will.

Her lawyer brought out the alternate version, which

had been her most guarded secret for seven years.

whether or not she would actually be crazy enough

to use it, william McIntyre had never been certain.

“Madam,” he asked, “are you sure?”

grace gazed out the window, across the sunlit mead-

ows of her estate. Her cat, Saladin, snuggled beside her

as he had throughout her illness, but his presence was

not enough to comfort her today. She was about to set in

motion events that might cause the end of civilization.

“Yes, william.” Her every breath was painful.

“I’m sure.”

william broke the seal on the brown leather folder.

He was a tall craggy man. His nose was pointed like a

sundial so it always cast a shadow over one side of his

face. He had been grace’s adviser, her closest confi-

dant, for half her life. They’d shared many secrets over

the years, but none as perilous as this.

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He held the document for her to review. A fit of

coughing wracked her body. Saladin meowed with

concern. Once the coughing passed, william helped

her take the pen. She scrawled her weak signature

across the paper.

“They’re so young,” william lamented. “If only their

parents —”

“But their parents didn’t,” grace said bitterly. “And

now the children must be old enough. They are our

only chance.”

“If they don’t succeed —”

“Then five hundred years of work have been for

nothing,” grace said. “everything collapses. The fam-

ily, the world — all of it.”

william nodded grimly. He took the folder from her

hands.

grace sat back, stroking Saladin’s silver fur. The

scene outside the window made her sad. It was too

gorgeous a day to die. She wanted to have one last

picnic with the children. She wanted to be young and

strong and travel the world again.

But her eyesight was failing. Her lungs labored.

She clutched her jade necklace — a good-luck talisman

she’d found in China years ago. It had seen her through

many close calls with death, many lucky misses. But

the talisman couldn’t help her anymore.

She’d worked hard to prepare for this day. Still,

there was so much she’d left undone . . . so much she

had never told the children.

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“It will have to be enough,” she whispered.

And with that, grace Cahill closed her eyes for the

last time.

when he was sure grace had passed away, william

McIntyre went to the window and closed the curtains.

william preferred darkness. It seemed more proper for

the business at hand.

The door opened behind him. grace’s cat hissed

and disappeared under the bed.

william didn’t look back. He was staring at grace

Cahill’s signature on her new will, which had just

become the most important document in the Cahill

family’s history.

“well?” a brusque voice said.

william turned. A man stood in the doorway, his

face obscured by shadows, his suit as black as oil.

“It’s time,” william said. “Make sure they suspect

nothing.”

william couldn’t tell for sure, but he thought the

man in black smiled.

“don’t worry,” the man promised. “They’ll never

have a clue.”

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dan Cahill thought he had the most annoying big sister

on the planet. And that was before she set fire to two

million dollars.

It all started when they went to their grandmother’s

funeral. Secretly, dan was excited, because he was hop-

ing to make a rubbing of the tombstone after everyone

else was gone. He figured grace wouldn’t care. She’d

been a cool grandmother.

dan loved collecting things. He collected baseball

cards, autographs of famous outlaws, Civil war weap-

ons, rare coins, and every cast he’d ever had since

kindergarten (all twelve of them). At the moment,

what he liked collecting best were charcoal rubbings

of tombstones. He had some awesome ones back at the

apartment. His favorite read:

Pruella Goode1891–1929

I’m dead. Let’s have a party.

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He figured if he had a rubbing of grace’s tombstone

in his collection, maybe it wouldn’t feel quite so much

like she was gone forever.

Anyway, the whole way from Boston to the funeral

in worcester County, his great-aunt Beatrice was driv-

ing like a very slow lunatic. She went twenty-five miles

an hour on the highway and kept drifting across lanes

so the other cars honked and swerved and ran into

guardrails and stuff. Aunt Beatrice just kept clutching

the wheel with her jeweled fingers. Her wrinkly face

was made up with day-glo red lipstick and rouge,

which made her blue hair look even bluer. dan won-

dered if she gave the other drivers nightmares about

old clowns.

“Amy!” she snapped, as another SUV careened

down the exit ramp because Beatrice had just

pulled in front of it. “Stop reading in the car! It’s not

safe!”

“But, Aunt Beatrice —”

“Young lady, close that book!”

Amy did, which was typical. She never put up a

fight with adults. Amy had long reddish-brown hair,

unlike dan’s, which was dark blond. This helped dan

pretend his sister was an alien imposter, but unfortu-

nately they had the same eyes — green like jade, their

grandmother used to say.

Amy was three years older and six inches taller than

dan, and she never let him forget it — like being fourteen

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was such a big deal. usually, she wore jeans and some

old T-shirt because she didn’t like people noticing her,

but today she was wearing a black dress so she looked

like a vampire’s bride.

dan hoped her outfit was as uncomfortable as his

stupid suit and tie. Aunt Beatrice had thrown a fit

when he tried to go to the funeral in his ninja clothes.

It wasn’t as if grace would care if he was comfortable

and deadly, the way he felt when he pretended to be a

ninja, but of course Aunt Beatrice didn’t understand.

Sometimes it was hard for him to believe she and grace

were sisters.

“remind me to fire your au pair as soon as we

return to Boston,” Beatrice grumbled. “You two have

been entirely too spoiled.”

“Nellie’s nice!” dan protested.

“Hmph! This Nellie almost let you burn down the

neighbor’s apartment building!”

“exactly!”

every couple of weeks, Beatrice fired their au pair

and hired a new one. The only good thing was that

Aunt Beatrice didn’t live with them personally. She

lived across town in a building that didn’t allow kids,

so sometimes it took her a few days to hear about dan’s

latest exploits.

Nellie had lasted longer than most. dan liked her

because she made amazing waffles and she usually

cranked her iPod up to brain-damage level. She didn’t

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even hear when dan’s bottle rocket collection went off

and strafed the building across the alley. dan would

miss Nellie when she got fired.

Aunt Beatrice kept driving and muttering about

spoiled children. Amy secretly went back to her huge

book. The last two days, since they got the news about

grace’s death, Amy had been reading even more than

usual. dan knew it was her way of hiding, but he kind

of resented it because it shut him out, too.

“what are you reading this time?” he asked. “Medieval

European Doorknobs? Bath Towels Through the Ages?”

Amy gave him an ugly face — or an uglier-than-

usual face. “None of your business, dweeb.”

“You can’t call a ninja lord dweeb. You have dis-

graced the family. You must commit seppuku.”

Amy rolled her eyes.

After a few more miles, the city melted into farm-

land. It started to look like grace country, and even

though dan had promised himself he wouldn’t

get sappy, he began to feel sad. grace had been the

coolest ever. She’d treated him and Amy like real peo-

ple, not kids. That’s why she’d insisted they simply

call her grace, not grandmother or gran or Nana

or any silly name like that. She’d been one of the

only people who’d ever cared about them. Now she

was dead, and they had to go to the funeral and see

a bunch of relatives who had never been nice to

them. . . .

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The family cemetery sat at the bottom of the hill from

the mansion. dan thought it was kind of stupid they’d

hired a hearse to carry grace a hundred yards down

the driveway. They could’ve put wheels on the coffin

like they have on suitcases and that would’ve worked

just as well.

Summer storm clouds rumbled overhead. The fam-

ily mansion looked dark and gloomy on its hill, like a

lord’s castle. dan loved the place, with its billion rooms

and chimneys and stained glass windows.

He loved the family graveyard even more. A dozen

crumbling tombstones spread out across a green

meadow ringed in trees, right next to a little creek.

Some of the stones were so old the writing had faded

away. grace used to take Amy and him down to the

meadow on their weekend visits. grace and Amy would

spend the afternoon on a picnic blanket, reading and

talking, while dan explored the graves and the woods

and the creek.

Stop that, dan told himself. You’re getting sentimental.

“So many people,” Amy murmured, as they walked

down the driveway.

“You’re not going to freak out, are you?”

Amy fiddled with the collar of her dress. “I’m — I’m

not freaking out. I just —”

“You hate crowds,” he finished. “But you knew

there’d be a crowd. They come every year.”

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each winter, as long as dan could remember, grace

had invited relatives from all over the world for a

weeklong holiday. The mansion filled up with Chinese

Cahills and British Cahills and South African Cahills

and Venezuelan Cahills. Most of them didn’t even go

by the name Cahill, but grace assured him they were

all related. She’d explain about cousins and second

cousins and cousins three times removed until dan’s

brain started to hurt. Amy would usually go hide in

the library with the cat.

“I know,” she said. “But . . . I mean, look at them

all.”

She had a point. About four hundred people were

gathering at the grave site.

“They just want her fortune,” dan decided.

“dan!”

“well? It’s true.”

They had just joined the procession when dan

suddenly got flipped upside down.

“Hey!” he yelled.

“Look, guys,” a girl said. “we caught a rat!”

dan wasn’t in a good position to see, but he could

make out the Holt sisters — Madison and reagan —

standing on either side of him, holding him by his

ankles. The twins had matching purple running

suits, blond pigtails, and crooked smiles. They were

only eleven, same as dan, but they had no trouble

holding him. dan saw more purple running suits

behind them — the rest of the Holt family. Their pit bull,

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Arnold, raced around their legs and barked.

“Let’s fling him into the creek,” Madison said.

“I wanna fling him into the bushes!” reagan said.

“we never do my ideas!”

Their older brother, Hamilton, laughed like an idiot.

Next to him, their dad, eisenhower Holt, and their

mom, Mary-Todd, grinned like this was all good fun.

“Now, girls,” eisenhower said. “we can’t go flinging

people at a funeral. This is a happy occasion!”

“Amy!” dan called. “A little help here?”

Her face had gone pale. She mumbled, “dr-dr-

drop . . .”

dan sighed in exasperation. “She’s trying to say

‘drOP Me!’ ”

Madison and reagan did — on his head.

“Ow!” dan said.

“M-M-Madison!” Amy protested.

“Y-y-yes?” Madison mimicked. “I think all those

books are turning your brain to mush, weirdo.”

If it had been anybody else, dan would’ve hit back,

but he knew better with the Holts. even Madison and

reagan, the youngest, could cream him. The whole

Holt family was way too buff. They had meaty hands

and thick necks and faces that looked like g.I. Joe fig-

ures. even the mom looked like she should be shaving

and chewing on a cigar.

“I hope you losers took a good last look around the

house,” Madison said. “You’re not going to be invited

back here anymore, now that the old witch is dead.”

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“Rawf!” said Arnold the pit bull.

dan looked around for Beatrice, but as usual she

wasn’t anywhere near them. She’d drifted off to talk

to the other old people.

“grace wasn’t a witch,” dan said. “And we’re going

to inherit this place!”

The big brother, Hamilton, laughed. “Yeah, right.”

His hair was combed toward the middle so it stuck up

like a shark fin. “wait till they read the will, runt. I’m

gonna kick you out myself!”

“All right, team,” the dad said. “enough of this.

Formation!”

The family lined up and started jogging toward the

grave site, knocking other relatives out of their way as

Arnold snapped at everyone’s heels.

“Is your head okay?” Amy asked guiltily.

dan nodded. He was a little annoyed Amy hadn’t

helped him, but there was no point complaining about

it. She always got tongue-tied around other people.

“Man, I hate the Holts.”

“we’ve got worse problems.” Amy pointed toward

the grave site, and dan’s heart sank.

“The Cobras,” he muttered.

Ian and Natalie kabra were standing by grace’s

coffin, looking like perfect little angels as they talked

to the preacher. They wore matching designer mourn-

ing outfits that complemented their silky black hair

and cinnamon-colored skin. They could’ve been child

supermodels.

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“They won’t try anything during the funeral,” dan

said hopefully. “They’re just here for grace’s money

like the rest of them. But they won’t get it.”

Amy frowned. “dan . . . did you really believe what

you said, about us inheriting the mansion?”

“Of course! You know grace liked us best. we spent

more time with her than anybody.”

Amy sighed like dan was too young to understand,

which dan hated.

“Come on,” she said. “we might as well get this over

with.” And together they waded into the crowd.

The funeral was a blur to dan. The minister said

some stuff about ashes. They lowered the coffin into

the ground. everybody tossed in a shovelful of dirt.

dan thought the mourners enjoyed this part too much,

especially Ian and Natalie.

He recognized a few more relatives: Alistair Oh,

the old korean dude with the diamond-tipped walk-

ing stick who always insisted they call him uncle; the

russian lady Irina Spasky, who had a twitch in one

eye so everybody called her Spaz behind her back; the

Starling triplets — Ned, Ted, and Sinead, who looked

like part of a cloned Ivy League lacrosse team. even

that kid from television was there: Jonah wizard.

He stood to one side, getting his picture taken with

a bunch of girls, and there was a line of people

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waiting to talk to him. He was dressed just like on TV,

with lots of silver chains and bracelets, ripped jeans,

and a black muscle shirt (which was kind of stupid,

since he didn’t have any muscles). An older African-

American guy in a business suit stood behind him,

punching notes in a BlackBerry. Probably Jonah’s

dad. dan had heard that Jonah wizard was related to

the Cahills, but he’d never seen him in person before.

He wondered if he should get an autograph for his

collection.

After the service, a guy in a charcoal-gray suit

stepped to the podium. He looked vaguely familiar to

dan. The man had a long pointed nose and a balding

head. He reminded dan of a vulture.

“Thank you all for coming,” he said gravely.

“I am william McIntyre, Madame Cahill’s lawyer and

executor.”

“executor?” dan whispered to Amy. “He killed her?”

“No, you idiot,” Amy whispered back. “That means

he’s in charge of her will.”

“If you will look inside your programs,” william

McIntyre continued, “some of you will find a gold invi-

tation card.”

excited murmuring broke out as four hundred peo-

ple leafed through their programs. Then most of them

cursed and shouted complaints when they found noth-

ing. dan ripped through his program. Inside was a

card with a gold-leafed border. It read:

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“I knew it!” dan said.

“I assure you,” Mr. McIntyre said, raising his voice

above the crowd, “the invitations were not done ran-

domly. I apologize to those of you who were excluded.

grace Cahill meant you no disrespect. Of all the mem-

bers of the Cahill clan, only a few were chosen as the

most likely.”

The crowd started yelling and arguing. Finally, dan

couldn’t stand it anymore. He called out, “Most likely

to what?”

“In your case, dan,” Ian kabra muttered right

behind him, “to be a stupid American git.”

His sister, Natalie, giggled. She was holding an invi-

tation and looking very pleased with herself.

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Before dan could kick Ian in a soft spot, the

gray-suited man answered. “To be the beneficia-

ries of grace Cahill’s will. Now, if you please, those

with invitations will gather in the great Hall.”

People with invitations hurried toward the house

like somebody had just yelled “Free food!”

Natalie kabra winked at dan. “Ciao, cousin. Must

run collect our fortune.” Then she and her brother

strolled up the drive.

“Forget them,” Amy said. “dan, maybe you’re right.

Maybe we’ll inherit something.”

But dan frowned. If this invitation was such a great

thing, why did the lawyer guy look so grim? And why

had grace included the kabras?

As he passed through the main entrance of the

mansion, dan glanced up at the stone crest above the

door — a large C surrounded by four smaller designs —

a dragon, a bear, a wolf, and two snakes entwined

around a sword. The crest had always fascinated dan,

though he didn’t know what it meant. All the animals

seemed to glare at him, like they were about to strike.

He followed the crowd inside, wondering why those

animals were so mad.

The great Hall was as big as a basketball court, with

tons of armor and swords lining the walls and huge

windows that looked like Batman could crash through

them any minute.

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william McIntyre stood at a table in front with

a projector screen behind him, while everybody

else filed into rows of seats. There were about forty

people in all, including the Holts and the kabras and

Aunt Beatrice, who looked completely disgusted to be

there — or maybe she was just disgusted that every-

body else had been invited to her sister’s will reading.

Mr. McIntyre raised his hand for quiet. He slipped

a document from a brown leather folder, adjusted his

bifocals, and began to read: “ ‘I, grace Cahill, being

of sound mind and body, do hereby divide my entire

estate among those who accept the challenge and

those who do not.’ ”

“whoa,” eisenhower Holt interrupted. “what chal-

lenge? what’s she mean?”

“I am getting to that, sir.” Mr. McIntyre cleared his

throat and continued: “ ‘You have been chosen as the

most likely to succeed in the greatest, most perilous

undertaking of all time — a quest of vital importance

to the Cahill family and the world at large.’ ”

Forty people started talking at once, asking ques-

tions and demanding answers.

“ ‘Perilous undertaking’?” Cousin Ingrid shouted.

“what is she talking about?”

“I thought this was about money!” uncle José yelled.

“A quest? who does she think we are? we’re Cahills,

not adventurers!”

dan noticed Ian and Natalie kabra exchange a

meaningful look. Irina Spasky whispered something

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in Alistair Oh’s ear, but most of the other spectators

looked as confused as dan felt.

“Ladies and gentlemen, please,” Mr. McIntyre said.

“If you will direct your attention to the screen, perhaps

Madame Cahill can explain things better than I.”

dan’s heart did a flip-flop. what was Mr. McIntyre

talking about? Then a projector on the ceiling hummed

to life. The shouting in the room died down as grace’s

image flickered on the screen.

She was sitting up in bed with Saladin on her lap. She

wore a black dressing gown, like she was a mourner at

her own funeral, but she looked healthier than the last

time dan had seen her. Her complexion was pink. Her

face and hands didn’t look as thin. The video must’ve

been made months ago, before her cancer got bad.

dan got a lump in his throat. He had a crazy urge to

call to her: Grace, it’s me! It’s Dan! But of course it was

just an image. He looked at Amy and saw a tear trick-

ling down the base of her nose.

“Fellow Cahills,” grace said. “If you are watch-

ing this, it means I am dead, and I have decided to

use my alternate will. No doubt you are arguing

amongst yourselves and giving poor Mr. McIntyre a

hard time about this contest I have instituted.” grace

gave the camera a dry smile. “You always were a

stubborn bunch. For once, close your mouths and

listen.”

“Hey, wait a minute!” eisenhower Holt protested,

but his wife shushed him.

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“I assure you,” grace continued, “this contest is no

trick. It is deadly serious business. Most of you know

you belong to the Cahill family, but many of you may

not realize just how important our family is. I tell you

the Cahills have had a greater impact on human civi-

lization than any other family in history.”

More confused shouting broke out. Irina Spasky

stood up and yelled, “Silence! I wish to hear!”

“My relatives,” grace’s image said, “you stand on

the brink of our greatest challenge. each of you has

the potential to succeed. Some of you may decide to

form a team with other people in this room to pursue

the challenge. Some of you may prefer to take up the

challenge alone. Most of you, I’m afraid, will decline

the challenge and run away with your tails between

your legs. Only one team will succeed, and each of

you must sacrifice your share of the inheritance to

participate.”

She held up a manila envelope sealed with red

wax. Her eyes were as bright and hard as steel. “If you

accept, you shall be given the first of thirty-nine clues.

These clues will lead you to a secret, which, should

you find it, will make you the most powerful, influ-

ential human beings on the planet. You will realize

the destiny of the Cahill family. I now beg you all to

listen to Mr. McIntyre. Allow him to explain the rules.

Think long and hard before you make your choice.”

She stared straight into the camera, and dan wanted

her to say something special to them: Dan and Amy, I’ll

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miss you most of all. Nobody else in this room really matters

to me. Something like that.

Instead, grace said, “I’m counting on you all. good

luck, and good-bye.”

The screen went dark. Amy gripped dan’s hand.

Her fingers were trembling. To dan, it felt like they’d

just lost grace all over again. Then everyone around

them started talking at once.

“greatest family in history?” Cousin Ingrid yelled.

“Is she crazy?”

“Stubborn?” eisenhower Holt shouted. “She called

us stubborn?”

“william!” Alistair Oh’s voice rose above the rest.

“Just a moment! There are people here I don’t even

recognize, people who may not even be members of

the family. How do we know —”

“If you are in this room, sir,” Mr. McIntyre said, “you

are a Cahill. whether your surname is Cahill or not

doesn’t matter. everyone here has Cahill blood.”

“even you, Mr. McIntyre?” Natalie kabra asked in

her silky British accent.

The old lawyer flushed. “That, miss, is beside the

point. Now, if I might be allowed to finish —”

“But what’s this about sacrificing our inheritance?”

Aunt Beatrice complained. “where’s the money? It’s

just like my sister to come up with some foolishness!”

“Madam,” Mr. McIntyre said, “you may certainly

decline the challenge. If you do, you will receive what

is under your chair.”

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Immediately, forty people felt around under their

chairs. eisenhower Holt was so anxious he picked

up reagan’s chair with her still in it. dan discovered

an envelope under his, stuck on with tape. when he

opened it, he found a green slip of paper with a bunch

of numbers and the words rOyAL bAnk Of SCOTLAnd. Amy

had one, too. So did everybody in the room.

“what you now hold is a bank voucher,” Mr.

McIntyre explained. “It shall only be activated if

and when you renounce your claim to the challenge.

If you so choose, each of you may walk out of this room

with one million dollars and never have to think of

grace Cahill or her last wishes again. Or . . . you may

choose a clue — a single clue that will be your only

inheritance. No money. No property. Just a clue that

might lead you to the most important treasure in the

world and make you powerful beyond belief . . .”

william’s gray eyes seemed to settle on dan par-

ticularly. “. . . or it might kill you. One million dollars

or the clue. You have five minutes to decide.”

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Amy Cahill thought she had the most annoying little

brother on the planet. And that was before he almost

got her killed.

It all started when Mr. McIntyre read their grand-

mother’s will and showed them the video.

Amy sat there in shock. She found herself holding

a green slip of paper worth one million dollars. A

challenge? A dangerous secret? what was going on?

She stared at the blank projector screen. She couldn’t

believe her grandmother would do something like

this. The video must have been made months ago,

judging from the way grace had looked. Seeing her

on the screen like that had stung Amy worse than

salt in a cut. How could grace have been planning

something this huge and not have warned them in

advance?

Amy never expected to inherit much. All she wanted

was something to remember grace by — a keepsake,

maybe one piece of her beautiful jewelry. Now this . . .

she felt completely lost.

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It didn’t help that dan was jumping around like he

needed to go to the restroom. “One million dollars!”

he squealed. “I could get a Mickey Mantle rookie card

and a Babe ruth 1914!”

His tie was crooked, which matched his crooked

grin. He had a scar under one eye from when he’d gone

commando-raiding at seven and fallen on his plastic

Ak-47. That’s just the kind of little demon he was. But

what Amy really resented was how comfortable he

seemed, like all these people didn’t bother him.

Amy hated crowds. She felt like everyone was

watching her, waiting for her to make a fool of herself.

Sometimes in her nightmares, she dreamed she was at

the bottom of a pit, and all the people she knew were

staring down at her, laughing. She’d try to climb out

of the pit, but she could never make it.

right now, all she wanted to do was run up to grace’s

library, close the door, and curl up with a book. She

wanted to find Saladin, grace’s egyptian Mau, and

cuddle with him. But grace was dead, and the poor

cat . . . who knew where he was now? She blinked tears

out of her eyes, thinking about the last time she’d seen

her grandmother.

You will make me proud, Amy, grace had said. They’d

been sitting on grace’s big four-poster bed, with Saladin

purring next to them. grace had shown her a hand-

drawn map of Africa and told her stories about the

adventures she’d had when she was a young explorer.

grace had looked thin and frail, but the fire in her eyes

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was as fierce as ever. The sunlight turned her hair to

pure silver. I had many adventures, my dear, but they will

pale next to yours.

Amy wanted to cry. How could grace think that Amy

would have great adventures? She could barely muster

enough courage to go to school every morning.

“I could get a ninja sword,” dan kept babbling.

“Or a Civil war saber!”

“dan, shut up,” she said. “This is serious.”

“But the money —”

“I know,” she said. “But if we took the money, we’d

need to keep it for college and stuff. You know how

Aunt Beatrice is.”

dan frowned like he’d forgotten. He knew good

and well that Aunt Beatrice only looked after them for

grace’s sake. Amy always wished grace had adopted

them after their parents died, but she hadn’t. For rea-

sons she never explained, she’d pressured Beatrice into

being their guardian instead.

For the last seven years, dan and Amy had been

at Beatrice’s mercy, living in a tiny little apartment

with a series of au pairs. Beatrice paid for everything,

but she didn’t pay much. Amy and dan got enough

to eat and a new set of clothes every six months, but

that was it. No birthday presents. No special treats.

No allowance. They went to regular public school and

Amy never had extra money to buy books. She used

the public library, or sometimes she’d hang out at the

second-hand bookshop on Boylston, where the staff

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knew her. dan made a little money on his own trading

collectible cards, but it wasn’t much.

every weekday for seven years, Amy had resented

grace for not raising them herself, but every weekend

Amy just couldn’t stay mad at her. when they came

to the mansion, grace gave them undivided attention.

She treated them like the most important people in the

world. whenever Amy got up the courage to ask why

they couldn’t stay with grace all the time, grace just

smiled sadly. There are reasons, dear. Someday, you will

understand.

Now grace was gone. Amy didn’t know what Aunt

Beatrice would do, but they could definitely use money.

It would mean they’d have some independence. They

could get a bigger apartment, maybe. They could

buy books whenever they wanted and even go to col-

lege. Amy was desperate to go to Harvard. She wanted

to study history and archaeology. Her mom would’ve

liked that.

At least . . . Amy hoped she would have. Amy knew

so little about her parents. She didn’t even know why

she and dan carried their mom’s maiden name —

Cahill — when their dad’s last name had been Trent.

She’d asked grace about it once, but grace had only

smiled. “It’s how your parents wanted it,” she said. But

the stubborn pride in her voice made Amy wonder if

it had really been grace’s idea for them to carry the

Cahill name.

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Amy had trouble remembering her mother’s face,

or anything about her parents before the terrible night

they died. And that was something Amy tried hard

not to think about.

“Okay,” dan said slowly. “So I’ll spend my million

on my collection. You can spend yours on college. And

everybody’s happy.”

Amy felt heartsick. Arguments were breaking out all

over the room. The Holts looked like they were conduct-

ing a combat exercise. Sinead Starling was holding her

brothers, Ned and Ted, apart so they wouldn’t stran-

gle each other. Irina Spasky was talking in rapid-fire

Russian to that kid from the reality TV show, Jonah

wizard, and his dad, but from the way they were

staring back at her, it was obvious they didn’t speak

russian. Angry voices filled the great Hall. It was like

they were tearing up grace bit by bit, squabbling over

her inheritance. They didn’t care at all that Amy’s

grandmother had just passed away.

Then somebody right behind her said, “You’ll

decline the challenge, of course.”

It was Ian kabra, with his annoying sister, Natalie,

at his side. despite herself, Amy’s stomach did a little

somersault, because Ian was very good-looking. He

had gorgeous dark skin, amber eyes, and a perfect

smile. He was fourteen, same as her, but he dressed

like a grown-up, in a silk suit and tie. He even smelled

good, like clove. Amy hated herself for noticing.

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“I would be sad if something happened to you,”

Ian purred. “And you so need the money.”

Natalie put her hands to her mouth in mock sur-

prise. She looked like a life-size doll in her satin dress,

her luxurious black hair swept over one shoulder.

“That’s right, Ian! They’re poor. I keep forgetting.

It seems so odd we’re related, doesn’t it?”

Amy felt herself blush. She wanted to say something

scathing in reply, but her voice wouldn’t work.

“Oh, yeah?” dan said. “well, maybe we’re not

related! Maybe you’re mutant aliens, because real kids

don’t dress like bankers and fly around in their daddy’s

private jet.”

Ian smiled. “You misunderstand me, dear cousin.

we’re very happy for you. we want you to take the

money, have a wonderful life, and never think about

us again.”

“g-g-grace,” Amy managed, hating that her voice

wouldn’t cooperate. “g-grace would want —”

“would want you to risk your lives?” Ian supplied.

“How do you know? did she tell you about this contest

she was planning?”

Neither Amy nor dan answered.

“I see,” Ian said. “That must be terrible — thinking

you were grace’s favorites and then being left in the

dark like that. Perhaps you weren’t as important to

the old woman as you thought, eh?”

“Now, Ian,” Natalie chided. “Perhaps grace just

knew they weren’t up to the challenge. It sounds quite

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dangerous.” Natalie smiled at Amy. “we’d hate to see

you suffer a painful death, wouldn’t we? Ta-ta!”

The kabras drifted off through the crowd.

“Ta-ta,” dan mimicked. “what losers.”

Part of Amy wanted to chase down the kabras and

hit them with a chair. But part of her wanted to crawl

under a rock and hide. She’d wanted so badly to tell

them off, but she hadn’t even been able to speak.

“They’re taking the challenge,” she muttered.

“well, duh!” dan said. “what’s another two million

dollars to them? They can afford to give it up.”

“They were threatening us. They don’t want us

involved.”

“Maybe they’ll suffer a painful death,” dan mused.

“I wonder what the treasure is, anyway.”

“does it matter?” Amy asked bitterly. “We can’t look

for it. we barely have enough money for bus passes.”

But still she found herself wondering. grace had

explored all over the world. Could the treasure be a

lost egyptian tomb . . . or pirates’ gold? Mr. McIntyre

had said the prize would make the winners the most

powerful human beings on earth. what could do that?

And why were there exactly thirty-nine clues?

She couldn’t help being curious. She loved myster-

ies. when she was younger, she used to pretend her

mother was still alive, and they would travel together

to archaeological digs. Sometimes grace would go, too,

just the three of them together, happily exploring the

world, but that was just silly pretending.

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“Too bad,” dan grumbled, “I’d love to wipe the

smiles off the Cobras’ faces. . . .”

Just then, Aunt Beatrice grabbed their arms.

Her face was contorted with rage and her breath

smelled like mothballs. “You two will do nothing

ridiculous! I fully intend to take my million dollars,

and you will do the same! Never fear, I’ll put it in an

account for you until you’re adults. I’ll only spend

the interest. In return, I will allow you to continue as

my wards.”

Amy choked with rage. “You . . . you’ll allow us to be

your wards? You’ll allow us to give you our two million

dollars?”

As soon as she said it, she couldn’t believe she’d

managed to get the words out. Beatrice usually scared

her to death. even dan looked impressed.

“watch your place, young lady!” Beatrice warned.

“do the responsible thing or else!”

“Or else what?” dan asked innocently.

Beatrice’s face turned bright red. “Or else, you little

upstart, I will disown you and leave you to Social

Services. You will be penniless orphans, and I’ll make

sure no Cahill ever helps you again! This whole busi-

ness is absurd. You’ll take the money and wash your

hands of my sister’s ridiculous scheme for finding the —”

She stopped abruptly.

“Finding the what?” dan asked.

“Never you mind,” Beatrice said. with a shock, Amy

realized Aunt Beatrice was scared. “Just make the right

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choice, or you will never have my support again!”

She marched off. Amy looked at dan, but before

she could say anything, Mr. McIntyre rang a little bell.

Slowly, the wrangling and arguing in the great Hall

died down. The assembly took their seats.

“It is time,” Mr. McIntyre said. “I must warn you

that once the choice is made, there is no turning back.

No changing minds.”

“wait a moment, william,” Alistair Oh said.

“This isn’t fair. we know almost nothing about the

challenge. How are we to judge whether it is worth

the gamble?”

Mr. McIntyre pursed his lips. “I am limited in what

I can say, sir. You know that the Cahill family is very

large . . . very old. It has many branches. Some of you,

until today, did not even realize you were Cahills. But

as Madame grace said in her video address, this family

has been instrumental in shaping human civilization.

Some of the most important figures in history have in

fact been Cahills.”

excited muttering filled the room.

Amy’s mind was racing. She’d always known the

Cahills were important. A lot of them were rich. They

lived all over the world. But shaping human civiliza-

tion? She wasn’t sure what Mr. McIntyre meant.

“Historical figures?” Mr. Holt bellowed. “Like

who?”

Mr. McIntyre cleared his throat. “Sir, you would

be hard-pressed to name a major historical figure in

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the last few centuries who was not a member of this

family.”

“Abraham Lincoln,” Cousin Ingrid shouted out.

“eleanor roosevelt.”

“Yes,” Mr. McIntyre said simply. “And yes.”

A stunned silence fell in the room.

“Harry Houdini!” Madison Holt shouted.

“Lewis and Clark!” her sister, reagan, suggested.

“Yes, yes, and yes,” Mr. McIntyre said.

“Oh, come on!” Mr. Holt yelled. “That’s impossible!”

“I agree!” uncle José said. “You’re putting us on,

McIntyre.”

“I am completely serious,” the old lawyer assured

him. “And yet, all the previous accomplishments of

the Cahill clan are nothing compared to the challenge

that now faces you. It is the time for you to discover

the greatest secret of the Cahills, to become the most

powerful members of the family in history — or to die

trying.”

Amy felt something cold and heavy in her stom-

ach, like she’d swallowed a cannonball. How could she

be related to all those famous people? How could grace

possibly have thought Amy could become more power-

ful than them? She got nervous just thinking about it.

There was no way she’d have the courage for a dan-

gerous quest.

But if she and dan didn’t accept the challenge . . .

She remembered Beatrice clutching their arms, telling

them to take the money. Beatrice would find a way to

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steal their two million dollars. Amy wouldn’t be able

to stand up to her. They would go back to their dreary

little apartment and nothing would change, except

grace would be gone. No weekend trips to look forward

to, nothing to remember her by. Amy never thought

anything could be worse than when her parents died,

but this was. She and dan were totally alone. The only

way out was this crazy idea that they were part of a

great historical family . . . part of some mysterious

contest. Amy’s hands started to sweat.

“embarking on this quest,” Mr. McIntyre was say-

ing, “will lead you to the treasure. But only one of

you will attain it. One individual”— his eyes flickered

across Amy’s face —“or one team will find the treasure.

I can tell you no more. I do not, myself, know where the

chase will lead. I can only start you on the path, moni-

tor your progress, and provide some small measure of

guidance. Now — who will choose first?”

Aunt Beatrice stood. “This is ridiculous. Any of you

who play this silly game are fools. I’ll take the money!”

Mr. McIntyre nodded. “As you wish, madam. As soon

as you leave this room, the numbers on your voucher

will become active. You may withdraw your money from

the royal Bank of Scotland at your leisure. who’s next?”

Several more stood up and took the money. uncle

José. Cousin Ingrid. A dozen other people Amy didn’t

recognize. each took the green voucher and became

an instant millionaire.

Then Ian and Natalie kabra rose.

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“we accept the challenge,” Ian announced. “we

will work as a team of two. give us the clue.”

“Very well,” Mr. McIntyre said. “Your vouchers,

please.”

Ian and Natalie approached the table. Mr. McIntyre

took out a silver cigarette lighter and burned the

million-dollar papers. In return, he handed Ian and

Natalie a manila envelope sealed with red wax. “Your

first clue. You may not read it until instructed to do so.

You, Ian and Natalie kabra, will be Team One.”

“Hey!” Mr. Holt objected. “Our whole family’s

taking the challenge! We want to be Team One!”

“we’re number one!” the Holt kids started chant-

ing, and their pit bull, Arnold, leaped into the air and

barked along with them.

Mr. McIntyre raised his hand for silence. “Very well,

Mr. Holt. Your family’s vouchers, please. You shall be

Team . . . uh, you shall also be a team.”

They made the trade — five million-dollar vouch-

ers for one envelope with a clue, and the Holts didn’t

even bat an eye. As they marched back to their seats,

reagan bumped Amy in the shoulder. “No pain, no

gain, wimp!”

Next, Alistair Oh struggled to his feet. “Oh, very

well. I can’t resist a good riddle. I suppose you may

call me Team Three.”

Then the Starling triplets rushed forward. They put

their vouchers on the table and three million more

dollars went up in flames.

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“Da,” Irina Spasky said. “I, also, shall play this

game. I work alone.”

“Hey, yo, wait up.” Jonah wizard sauntered forward

like he was pretending to be a street punk, the way he

did on Who Wants to Be a Gangsta? which was kind of

ridiculous since he was worth about a billion dollars

and lived in Beverly Hills. “I’m all over this.” He slapped

his voucher on the table. “Hand me the clue, homes.”

“we’d like to film the contest,” his dad piped up.

“No,” Mr. McIntyre said.

“ ’Cause it would make great TV,” the dad said. “I

could talk to the studios about a percentage split —”

“No,” Mr. McIntyre insisted. “This is not for enter-

tainment, sir. This is a matter of life and death.”

Mr. McIntyre looked around the room and focused

on Amy.

“who else?” he called. “Now is the time to choose.”

Amy realized she and dan were the last ones unde-

cided. Most of the forty guests had taken the money.

Six teams had taken the challenge — all of them older

or richer or seemingly more likely to succeed than Amy

and dan. Aunt Beatrice glared at them, warning them

that they were about to get disowned. Ian was smil-

ing smugly. Perhaps you weren’t as important to the old

woman as you thought, eh? Amy remembered what his

annoying sister, Natalie, had said: Grace just knew they

weren’t up to the challenge.

Amy’s face felt hot with shame. Maybe the kabras

were right. when the Holts turned her brother upside

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down, she hadn’t fought back. when the kabras

insulted her, she’d just stood there tongue-tied. How

could she handle a dangerous quest?

But then she heard another voice in her head:

You will make me proud, Amy.

And suddenly she knew: This was what grace had

been talking about. This was the adventure Amy was

supposed to take. If she didn’t, she might as well crawl

under a rock and hide for the rest of her life.

She looked at her brother. despite how annoying he

was, they had always been able to communicate just by

looking at each other. It wasn’t telepathy or anything,

but she could tell what her brother was thinking.

It’s a lot of money, dan told her. A lot of awesome base-

ball cards.

Mom and Dad would want us to try, Amy replied with

her eyes. This is what Grace wanted us to do.

Yeah, but a Babe Ruth and a Mickey Mantle . . .

Ian and Natalie will hate it, Amy coaxed. And Aunt

Beatrice will probably blow a gasket.

A smile crept across his face. I guess Babe Ruth

can wait.

Amy took his voucher. They walked to the desk

together and she picked up Mr. McIntyre’s lighter.

“we’re in,” she told him, and she sent two million

dollars up in smoke.

Documents

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